Sunday Ritual

The air has finally turned cool. The windows are cracked open and the stove’s been on since 6 AM. Noon rolls around and the house smells like chili, wings, and if you’re lucky, homemade apple crisp. The yard work can wait. The week ahead hasn’t quite arrived yet, and somewhere in the background, a football game is about to start.

For many of us, the routine is nearly sacred. We spend all week thinking, longing for this day to finally arrive. We know when kickoff is, we know who’s playing and we know we’re not missing it. Friends come over, the television goes on and for the next few hours, everything else can wait. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying it, lord knows I do.

But there’s a question worth asking:

What are you willing to arrange your life around?

We make time for the things we love. We memorize schedules, we buy the clothes to show our devotion, we know the names, the stories, the statistics. We talk about them with friends, we travel to see them, we give them hours of our attention without thinking twice.

And yet, when it comes to worshiping God, suddenly an hour feels difficult to find.

“8 AM is too early, and 10 AM is right in the middle of the day.”

“Sunday is my only day off, I need some ‘me’ time”

“The week was exhausting, I’ll go next week.”

“I’m too behind on chores, I need to get caught up” 

But somehow, kickoff still makes the calendar.

Maybe the uncomfortable truth is that worship was never something humans had to learn how to do. We were born worshipers, the question is what receives our devotion.

 We will worship something. If it isn’t Christ, something else will gladly take His place. Our work, our money, our comfort, our hobbies, our favorite team. The world is full of things competing for our attention and affection, promising that just a little more will finally leave us satisfied.

The graduality of it is what makes it dangerous. Idolatry rarely announces itself as idolatry. More often, it begins with something good, something harmless. Something we enjoy, slowly taking up more of our time, more of our thoughts, more of our money, and more of our affection. Before long, a gift from God has quietly become more important to us than the God who gave it.

Football isn’t the problem. Neither is hunting, music, work, money, hobbies, or anything else we enjoy. We weren’t called to live lives void of pleasure. There is nothing wrong with enjoying a Sunday afternoon watching football. But football was never meant to satisfy your soul. Neither was a career, a paycheck, a new truck, a relationship, or another weekend spent chasing the next thing. 

Every worldly pleasure eventually runs out. The game ends. The season changes. The money gets spent. The new wears off.

Christ remains.

Our deepest satisfaction, affection, and devotion were always meant to rest in Him. When Christ occupies His rightful place, we can enjoy the good things of this world without becoming slaves to them. We can appreciate the gift without confusing it for the Giver.

So enjoy the game. Make the food, invite your friends over, rest. But pay attention to what captures your heart. Pay attention to what you cannot imagine giving up, what your schedule always seems to make room for, and what receives the best of your attention. Then ask yourself an uncomfortable question: “What does the way I spend my Sunday say about what I worship?”

Because maybe Sunday was never ours to begin with.